


The Prince's Table

by Mizufae, psmithery



Series: The Prince [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Masturbation, Modern Era, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizufae/pseuds/Mizufae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/psmithery/pseuds/psmithery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur straightens cutlery, Merlin goes emo <i>again</i>, Gwaine gets wet, and Leon is decidedly unhelpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince's Table

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to all you readers who are still with us; we’ve had a very hard time of it these past few months. A couple things to let you know: The bit with Gwaine and the socks was written weeks before the Series 4 premiere, we swear. And, we’re almost out of the angst woods, yay!
> 
> Additional warnings for: inaccurate portrayals of the queer experience, and poor nutritional advice.
> 
> Also posted on [livejournal](http://mintandhoney.livejournal.com/5194.html)

_Friday April 29th, 2011, 13:07_

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` come ova 4 dinner + pre-goodbye snog?`

 **compose message**   
` sry bsy atm, caught A rifling thru my old gay porn`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` wot? u dun have porn, ur 2 classy XOXO`

 **compose message**   
` stfu this is srs`

 **compose message**   
` omg Arthur finally CAME OUT to me.`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` RLLY? thank fuck, can stop keepin secrets, so sick of that`

 **compose message**   
` now being yelled at not to text cos this is important, bbiab`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` btw Merlins been MIA this break u know y?`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` Morgs u there?`

 **compose message**   
` u guys have no gay friends right?`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` does gwaine count?`

 **compose message**   
` no.`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` prty sure Monmouth’s a queen. wont stfu about greek gods`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` or theres Percys 2 gay dads`

 **compose message**   
` rly?`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` y. sucking face all over, how dont u know about them?`

 **compose message**   
` U R SO NOT HELPFUL`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` sry luv. Is A gonna be OK? Does he know i know?`

 **compose message**   
` No. Just treat him like norm @ school. Make him run laps 4 stealing my VHSes, if he asks y say its to get him in shape 4 cricket final`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` dammit i suck @ secrets. y me?`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` neway u done yet? COME OVA!`

 **compose message**   
` no! must educate ignorant child of gay ways.`

 **new message from: Cloak**   
` BUT MOGGIE WOT OF THE PRE PRE GUDBYE SEX? U CAN BRING UR PORN U NO I DUN MIND`   


* * *

_Monday May 2nd, 2011_

There was always something weird about the first day back at school after a holiday. Merlin sometimes wondered if school existed outside the real world, so when a new term started, time just picked up where it left off at the end of the last one. But of course, things happened during the holidays – Willow and Matthew would have hooked up _again_ or some clumsy idiot would break their arm in a ridiculous, alcohol-fuelled stunt, or a new couple would be infatuated with each other.

It was even weirder being the thing that happened – Merlin, who was talking to Arthur again, apparently. He just smiled when Elyan looked at him oddly as he sat down with them at the table for lunch, and tried to ignore the way the conversation faltered for just a second.

“Merlin,” Arthur said beaming, breaking away from Sophia’s kiss to his cheek. "Yours is ham and mustard today.” He tossed a pair of sandwiches in Merlin’s direction.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I brought my own.” Merlin extracted his rather sad, lumpy sandwich from his bag, placing it carefully on an unfolded napkin.

Gwaine bent over and poked at it. “What the hell is in that thing?”

“Five quid says it’s marmalade and cheese,” Arthur volunteered as he straightened Sophia’s cutlery for her. Sophia slapped lightly at his hand.

Gwaine’s interest was piqued. “How’d you know? D’you go to the shops with his mum?”

“Yeah, Gwaine, just before I visit yours.” Arthur reached out and grabbed the lonely ham sandwiches from the middle of the table. “Actually, he seems to think it’s delicious. And it’s the only thing he knows how to make.”

Merlin looked up from his sandwich to find the whole table watching him. “What? ‘s good!”

Everyone else returned their food, but Elyan remained dubious. “You are full of shit. And I know that because I see you eating it.” Summoning reserves of self-control, Merlin did not stick out his tongue.

Seemingly uncomfortable with the focus of conversation, Arthur turned back to Sophia. “So, Miss Head Girl, Our Lady of Efficiency, what’re you up to for your last term?”

Sophia clapped her hands together, apparently gleeful at the prospect of filling the entire table in on her plans. She whipped out her Blackberry and began to scroll. “Well, in a week we’ll host the regional Team Maths Challenge and then I’ve been trying to clinch a fairytale theme for the school dance, and then...”

Arthur, who had rested his chin on his hand to gaze in an appropriately boyfriend-like manner at Sophia while she blathered, blinked slowly. Merlin could see his jaw work in the way that meant he was stifling a yawn. He lifted a sandwich to his mouth and chewed mechanically.

Merlin rolled his eyes in Gwaine’s direction when it became apparent that she had no intention of stopping. Gwaine rolled his eyes back, and then waggled his eyebrows in a complicated pattern. Shit.

Before Merlin could react, Gwaine had stood up, leaned across the table, pulled Sophia’s Blackberry out of her carefully-manicured hands, and begun tossing it up into the air.

“Hey! Give that back!” she squawked.

“Shan’t.”

“Come on! It’s really important.” Sophia looked to Arthur for some support, but he was too busy laughing. Gwaine tossed the phone to Percy, who swept it around and under his leg and lobbed it up to Merlin, who shocked himself by managing to catch it.

Arthur put his hand out, waiting expectantly, but he was also still laughing. Merlin found that he had no desire to make Sophia happy. It was just a phone; she cared about it too much. It was like her entire life was on the thing. On Arthur’s other side sat Elyan. Merlin decided that he could stand to see Sophia fritter for a few more minutes as the lads played their impromptu game, so he threw it to Elyan’s casually opened hand instead.

Sophia clung to Arthur’s arm. “You’re all such _children_!”

Arthur shook her off. “Oh come on. _You_ were being an unholy bore.”

In a fit of chivalry, Elyan reached around Arthur’s back and waggled the Blackberry at Sophia. She didn’t notice it, too enraged at Arthur’s words.

“Was that _entirely_ necessary for you to say, Arthur?”

Arthur tried to stammer an apology but mostly just managed to flap his mouth open and closed a few times. Elyan poked her with her phone until she finally noticed. “Thank you, _Elyan_ ,” she said, glaring at Arthur as she tucked it into her bag and huffed off. Merlin hid his smile behind his sandwich.  


* * *

 _Tuesday May 3rd, 2011_

Everyone else had already been in the dining hall for fifteen minutes, but Arthur and Sophia had yet to turn up. Merlin had been feeling pretty positive after their little tiff yesterday, but their absence today spoke of snogging sessions in abandoned classrooms - he knew from experience. He picked seeds out of his bread, feeling glum.

“Look out, here’s trouble,” said Leon as a stone-faced Arthur strode in to the dining hall. Sophia was hot on his tail, gesticulating furiously.

“- your friends, you fucking twerp! You can find some other girl to grope; I’ve had enough. I can find someone better than you in a heartbeat.”

Naturally, by the time she’d finished and charged out into the overcast courtyard, the dining hall was silent. Gwaine started a slow clap as Arthur made his way over to their table, shoulders hunched. He folded himself into the chair next to Merlin, who took a long look at his drawn face and silently slid his sandwich towards him. Luckily he’d been keeping himself well-stocked with chocolate bars as of late, so one sandwich would not be missed.

“It’s not marmalade, is it?” Arthur asked quietly once conversation started up around them.

“Wouldn’t do that to you. Been learning. Ham is involved. I swear it.”

Arthur took a large bite without hesitation. He only grimaced a little after swallowing.

Gwaine leaned across Merlin and clapped Arthur on the shoulder. “Glad that’s over with, right? She wasn’t worth the effort. What a slag.”

Elyan laughed. “Now that’s irony, Gwaine calling someone _else_ a slag.”

“But he’s right, mate, she was a bitch,” Percy chimed in, though it had little effect. Arthur refolded the waxy sandwich wrapper forlornly, and Merlin had a sudden urge to squeeze his hand. Instead, he took drink from his pop and stayed quiet.

Gwen disentangled herself from Lance to object. “Hey! I liked her. She’s nice to me in Model UN. She relaxed tariffs on Sweden! Oh, but, yes, sorry Arthur.”

“Whatever Percy, you’re just jealous I’ve been getting some.” Arthur shook his head. “I can’t believe she dumped me _again_. How does she manage to do that? I swore it would be me doing the dumping this time around.”

Leon gave him an odd glance and stroked his newest attempt at a beard. “That’s a positive way of starting a relationship. I never knew you were such a romantic, Spendy.”

“I’ll have you know, I am the king of wooing, Leon.”

Merlin choked on his chocolate bar. Gwaine thumped him on the back. “King? Of wooing?”

Arthur turned his solemn gaze on Merlin, and they stared for a moment as Merlin wiped the chocolate off his mouth. Arthur tried to keep a calm, serious face, but couldn’t contain himself for long. He snorted a laugh, which got Merlin going. A few minutes later, once they caught their breath, it appeared nobody else had quite gotten the joke.

“Glad you two have finished playing footsie,” Leon groused from the end of the table. “Some of us are trying to eat.”  


* * *

 _Wednesday May 4th, 2011_

On Wednesday it rained. As usual when that happened, most everyone who could found a different place to each lunch, so Merlin settled himself on the carpeted steps of the band room in a semi-circle of his friends. Sophia was most likely eating a salad with her very important student government people. It probably had something ridiculous like cress in it, too. Or tofu.

“Crap day out,” Percy grumbled, helping Elyan to pack up his drum kit.

“Yeah, lovely,” Merlin said, smiling dreamily and staring into the middle distance. “it’s great.”

“Mate, are you _high_? It’s pissing down, I got soaked just crossing the quad.” Gwaine had toed off his wet shoes and hung his socks over a music stand to help them dry. Everyone had given them a five foot radius.

Arthur sat down next to Merlin and immediately began looking through his book bag without asking permission. “Have you done your Lit homework?”

“Yep, it’s...” he waved a hand at his bag, “somewhere.”

“Well where? You know I can’t ever find a damn thing in here...” Arthur had pulled out the contents of Merlin’s bag and spread it in front of him, trying to find the papers in question. He leaned forward on the balls of his feet. Merlin found himself staring at the way Arthur’s trousers stretched across his arse, and shook his head. “You have your maths in with last year’s history; this is ridiculous.” Arthur turned to face Merlin with sheaves of paper spilling between his hands.

“Give it here,” Merlin said, reaching for them, not feeling particularly motivated to protest the way Arthur was tapping everything into neat, squared-off piles. He rifled through and found his homework, which Arthur greedily snatched up and began to copy.

Percy opened a bag of crisps. “You keep this up, Arthur, and you’ll be stuck in Gwaine’s _special_ classes next year.” Gwaine threw a damp sock at him. After a brief fight resulting in a stubbed toe, Percy continued. “By the way, that was a nice move in Dev earlier.” He adopted a gormless expression and a terrible accent. “‘Oh goodness, Mr Monmouth, I dunno why we haven’t got our project. Guess we just, er, like, forgot, um?’ God, can’t you two at least work out a plausible excuse? Don’t either of you have some grandparents who could’ve died or something?”

“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but Merlin and I both are severely lacking in excess family members to kill off.”

Gwaine shrugged. “What does that matter? It’s not like Monmouth’s gonna check. I use that one all the time.”

“Yeah, and now the faculty thinks you have like, nine grandparents or something.”

“And at least two deranged uncles, at last count.” Lance punctuated this with a wave of his pizza-slice.

Gwaine graced Lance with the two finger salute. “Well, no-one beats Percy for excess family. C’mon, _three_ dads? That’s just greedy, man. And with fifty cousins or whatever the fuck number he’s got, he could kill one off every week and be set ‘til uni.”

They never spoke much about Percy’s dads; it had been a bit of a touchy subject during their first few years of highschool, particularly when some utter shitlords had beaten him up because of his dad’s new boyfriend. Even now, Percy bristled, and spoke in a quieter tone.

“Dad and Dennis would make me sit through their fake funerals or something as punishment. I’d have to pay for the flowers...” Percy trailed off into an awkward silence.

Leon finished texting whoever it was he always messaged at lunch time, noticed the quiet, and cleared his throat. “This rain is a bugger, isn’t it?” he announced to no one in particular.

Gwen tutted. “Well, it’s made my hair an absolute mess, that’s for certain.”

She was leaning slightly into Lance’s side, but aside from that, they’d been markedly less demonstrative compared to earlier in the week. They must have decided to tone it down for Arthur’s newly-dumped sake. Merlin wondered how much they talked about Arthur when they were by themselves.

Lance caught a strand of hair that had slipped free of Gwen’s complicated braid, and tucked it behind her ear. “Nah, it’s just as nice as always,” he said.

“Oi, could you knock that off?” Elyan whined from Merlin’s other side. “Stop molesting my sister.”

“Elyan! We talked about this!” Gwen shot him a scathing look.

He shook his head and crossed his arms. “Don’t care. I don’t trust him.”

“We’ve been friends since we were ten,” Lance pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’ve not been seducing my sister since we were ten -” Elyan broke off, looking suspicious.

“That’s what _you_ think,” Gwen crowed, and Lance made a strange, high-pitched noise of distress.

Just then, Merlin felt fingers brush the back of his neck. He’d been so unfocused all day that he hadn’t even noticed Arthur reaching towards him. “What are you doing?” he muttered as goosebumps broke out down his spine.

“Your collar is uneven, it’s been bothering me.” Arthur’s thumb stroked the side of his neck and Merlin ducked away.

“Gerroff, just leave it.”

Arthur pulled back, but returned with the now-copied homework. “...Thanks.”

Gwaine had grown tired of being spectator to Gwen and Elyan’s spat and was instead staring questioningly at Arthur. “Do I need to tuck in my shirt before you come over and do it for me? Apologies, my liege, I left my sock garters at home today.” He straightened his tie for emphasis.

Arthur sighed and sunk against Merlin’s shoulder a bit. “I’m just like this when I get stressed. I always have to, you know, tidy things.” He made sweeping motions with his hands.

“Including the people around him,” Merlin confirmed, as he shrugged hard and pushed Arthur off of him.

“What d’you have t’be stressed about? Not like that Dev shit will take long, and now you’re free of the harpy, you’ll have heaps of time.”

“Unless you’re secretly a Russian spy?” Percy suggested. “You and Merlin could be plotting to overthrow the government, right under our noses.”

“Nyet, not that.” He spoke louder, so everyone nearby could hear. “We’re filing the pool pretty soon, and my sister convinced my dad that if I had good enough grades, we could have a proper party to celebrate. Without him.”

“Wait wait wait.” Gwaine sat up straight and leaned in. “You mean, chaperone-free?”

“Well, technically, Morgana...”

Leon laughed. “Your sister’s not even three years older.”

“She acts differently around my dad now. She’s devious.”

“And brilliant!” Gwaine bounced a little in excitement. “So we just arrange some high marks for you and in exchange there’s a night full of girls in bikinis for me? Quick, let’s take up a collection, we’ll have enough to hire him a nerd.”

Arthur put a stop to Gwaine pawing at people’s back pockets. “I’ll be fine, you bum-groping freak. You’ll get your party - and I’ll choose not to be insulted by how much help you think I need.”

“When was the last time you read a book outside of class?” That was Lance, always a prat when least expected.

“One that _wasn’t_ just sports trivia,” Merlin specified.

“I’ll have you know I read a lovely nonfiction piece just last night.”

Lance looked sceptical. “Bullshit.”

Arthur made an indignant noise, but Gwen cut across him. “So what’s the party’s theme? Please don’t say vicars and tarts, I hate wearing daisy dukes.”

“We don’t live in a Bridget Jones film, you know,” Arthur said while brushing crumbs off Merlin’s sleeve.

“Good thing too,” Percy said. “Gwen’d make a rubbish Hugh Grant.”  


* * *

 _Thursday May 5th, 2011_

They’d broken away from the usual group and ran off to a study room in the library. Mr Monmouth had given them another jowly glare when they’d stammered out their excuses about why their World Development assignment was still not complete. With a stormy look, he told them, “I need it by tomorrow or you'll be staying in after classes.” They’d had no choice but to buckle down.

That was the problem with school. It was forever interfering with Merlin’s personal life. He was finally getting used to being around Arthur in a platonic capacity; why did crap like essays and class presentations have to get involved?

Arthur had been giving him strange looks. The sort of strange looks that might have piqued his interest a few weeks ago, but now just made him squirm awkwardly. Had Arthur always done that and Merlin was just now seeing it in a different light? Most likely, Arthur was being normal, and Merlin was freaking out.

The day before, Merlin had been happy just knowing he wouldn’t have to watch Sophia making eyes at Arthur again. But he’d woken up angry, suddenly remembering how many things he still wanted, but couldn’t do.

Merlin caught Arthur looking at him again and ducked his head. “Hand me that one with the Roman roadmaps.”

Arthur obliged, and grunted a bit as he lifted the atlas up from the floor. “Sucks that we only have today to finish this.”

“Sucks that we couldn’t do it all over the break.”

Arthur fidgeted with the corner of a yellowed page. “Well actually I’ve been meaning to say, um, I’m... sorry about that.”

Merlin froze in the middle of tracing a layout of Londinium. He almost laughed in disbelief, but he did his best to hold fast. Arthur appeared to take his silence as an invitation to continue.

“I was, um. You were trying to tell me something and I wasn’t getting it. It was just, the whole thing. And you were really upset and I didn’t realise exactly what everything, all that... the stuff that we... it was fucking intense, yeah? And I’m sorry and _god_ , can this be over now?”

Merlin made a show of clearing his throat before risking a glance at Arthur’s stricken face. He was gripping pages, wrinkling them. Merlin couldn’t remember the last time Arthur had ever outright apologised for anything. He'd been determined to not let Arthur off the hook for all the crap he’d pulled, but the shock of him actually saying _sorry_ was wreaking havoc with his self-control. “Yeah, sure. It’s over. We’re mates, it’s fine. Shit happens.”

“Really?”

“Really. So let’s just get this project done and we can move on with things. I’ve had enough drama to last me through to university.”

Arthur released a breath he’d been holding in and then began to carefully smooth the pages he’d ruined. Merlin bent back down to his maps until Arthur nudged him in the ankle.

“What is it now?”

“Well that’s the thing. Don’t laugh at me, but I did some thinking. Over the break. And the stuff with you, that wasn’t...”

Merlin shut the atlas with a snap. They were never going to finish the bloody Dev project at this rate.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen?” he suggested.

“Well, I was gonna say it wasn’t un-enjoyable, actually.”

“Goodness, thanks, glad to know. I didn’t un-enjoy it myself.”

Arthur’s face had turned progressively darker. He pounded a fist on the table top. “Shut up, Merlin. I’m trying to tell you that I’m gay!”

Merlin laughed bitterly. Arthur looked indignant. “Oi! Don’t laugh. This is serious.”

It took him a moment to catch his breath. “Just like that? You’re done with Sophia and not two days later you’re gay?”

“It’s not two days later. I’ve known for at least a week.”

“Oh. Oh! A week, well, that’s certainly well-considered,” Merlin scoffed.

It was just so quintessentially Arthurian. He’d have these great moments of revelation and then expect the whole world to change overnight. He’d done exactly the same thing when they were eleven. One Friday they’d barely managed to keep from murdering each other and the following Monday, Arthur had waltzed right into after school care, held out his hand, and demanded that Merlin shake it, as they were to become “chums, now.” Regardless of how well it had actually turned out, Merlin hadn’t appreciated the presumption then and he wasn’t appreciating it now.

“Well it’s probably been longer than that but I’m not the most introspective bastard around. That’s reserved for you, you knob.”

“Then what was the whole fucking thing with Sophia about?”

“I was trying to figure out how to break it off with her!”

“Oh yeah, that was a right struggle, wasn’t it?”

“Bloody hell, it doesn’t even matter. I just didn’t want to ditch her without an explanation, and as it happens, she dumped me because I wouldn’t shut up about _you_.”

Merlin found himself glad that they’d taken a study room. Even so, it seemed that their raised voices had made their way to the main room of the library; one of the stern-faced librarians was glaring at them through the glass with a finger to her lips. He mirrored the gesture, and turned on Arthur.

After a quiet pause, Merlin’s curiosity had not relented. “Why would she dump you for talking about me?”

“She wanted to go out this Friday and I said I couldn’t.” Arthur shrugged. “And that just turned into an argument about differing needs and relationship demands and god knows what else. Before I knew it, she was telling me I was crap in bed, too.”

Merlin found that he couldn’t help himself, he had to ask. “Well, were you?”

Arthur ran his hand through his fringe, doing his best to seem nonchalant. “No, I - well, I _satisfied_ her, but obviously there were-” he flapped a hand around, “extenuating circumstances.”

“Since when do you know phrases like ‘extenuating circumstances’?”

“Oh, fucking - I wouldn’t have told you any of this if I knew you were going to be such an ass about it. I figured you, of all people, would get this without needing me to spell it out.”

“Get what, exactly?”

Arthur threw his hands up. “Merlin,” he said, very slowly, “the thing about gay blokes. We like to... satisfy... other blokes, yeah?”

Merlin rubbed a hand over his eyes, exhaling slowly. “Can we just finish our fucking project? You should summarise that chapter on aqueducts, and stop explaining shit I am well aware of already.”

“What? Fuck’s sake! Why are you being such a drama queen?” Arthur pulled at his shoulder, but Merlin shrugged him off.

“Well excuse me if I’m a little dubious,” he hissed, rounding on him. “It’s been hard enough just being around you again. You can’t just spring this on me all of a sudden. I’ve spent the past two and a half weeks trying to figure out what to do with myself and now this, out of the blue? Christ, Arthur, if you’re gay, that’s good you’ve _finally_ admitted to it, but fuck if I’m going to pick right up right where we left off, just cos you’ve given your say-so. I don’t come when you call.”

Over the course of his tirade, Arthur had almost curled in on himself, so Merlin paused, and attempted to moderate his tone. “I’m not going to be your bloody fuckbuddy again, okay? So just drop it.”

Arthur turned back to the pile of books in front of him, crestfallen.

“Now, let’s get this done or Mr M will have our bollocks and mount them on the wall with a plaque and everything.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Arthur grumbled.

“God help us if anything were to happen to your precious balls.”

“Just trace your bloody maps, Merlin.”  


* * *

 _Friday May 6th, 2011_

In the back of the library, tucked away behind the fiction section, there was a little nook with a lumpy, mustard coloured couch. It was perhaps the single most uncomfortable piece of upholstered furniture in the school, but Merlin had managed to fall asleep on it regardless. It would soon be lunch and somebody might come to find him, but Merlin just twisted and burrowed to get away from a spring digging into the small of his back and drooled onto a stain of indeterminate, but no doubt dubious, origin. At least, it was probably a stain. It was hard to tell the difference considering the fabric.

Merlin wasn’t technically skivving. _Technically_ he was on a rather long bathroom break, conveniently taken close to the end of class. But his teacher had looked at his shadowed eyes, the way he couldn’t manage to stay sitting up at his desk, and let him go.

He’d been up all night, first single-mindedly completing the majority of the damn Dev project, and then staring blankly into the gloom when he had no further academic distractions. He’d found music pointless, snacks tasteless; he’d ended up lying on his back on the floor of his bedroom, tracing the grooves of a Morrissey record with a fingernail, well aware of himself and too damn bleak to do anything but mope regardless.

He must have fallen asleep at one point, because he'd woken up flailing and disoriented on the floor when his alarm went off. There was a mass of cricks where his spine was supposed to be, and his traitorous brain giving him the most pressing case of morning wood he'd had in years. He'd stumbled, bent in half, into a steaming shower, too tired and too turned on to suppress the last remnants of his dream as he gave his cock a dozen hot, wet strokes, guiltily letting himself pretend it was Arthur's mouth and not his own sleep-clumsy fist. He still felt like shit after he'd wiped his come off the tiles, but it had given him some relief.

For a few hours, at least.

Arthur had jogged up to him in the morning, fresh and bright, and began to collate their project into a professional-looking portfolio that he’d obviously nicked from his father’s study. He’d talked and talked, smelling of soap and wearing a fresh-pressed shirt, collar popped cockily above the lapels of his blazer.

Merlin had just grunted and failed at retying the knot of yesterday’s tie, let Arthur do all the talking when they turned the project in, and hoped he’d nodded where appropriate.

The virtue of the mustard couch being incredibly uncomfortable and a bit smelly was that nobody ever thought to be around it, thus promising an empty seat and a bit of privacy. The problem with this virtue was that nobody was there to leap to his defence when Arthur showed up and began the horrible abuse of throwing wads of paper at Merlin’s head.

“Leave me ’lone,” he grunted, and then coughed as he inhaled four decades-worth of book dust, swiping ineffectually at the small pile of paper forming at his neck.

Arthur batted at his knees, causing Merlin to curl them up to his chest, and then sat down in the vacated space. The couch sagged ominously under their combined weight. Merlin tried to squirm away into the few inches of space between the cushions, but Arthur was still in an obnoxiously friendly mood, so he just tugged Merlin's ankles, unfolding him, and pulled his feet into his lap. Merlin could feel him fiddling with his shoelaces, and kicked at him sleepily.

At some point in his childhood, before he'd met Merlin, Arthur had taken it upon himself to learn how to tie knots. His younger self apparently thought it was vital knowledge for any growing boy, and though he rarely had need for sheet bends and bowlines in his life, he always took the opportunity to practice by tying Merlin's shoelaces together.

He waited for Arthur to start talking, and when he didn’t, Merlin cracked his eyes open to get a good look at him. Arthur was staring back intently, which made Merlin sit up and push into the arm of the couch. Arthur followed his movement, just an inch or so, curling his hand around Merlin’s ankles to keep them on his lap.

“What’re you doing here? Aren’t you meant to be in... thingy class, y'know, with whatisname?” He yawned. “How’d you find me, anyway?”

Arthur shrugged. "Bailed early cos Helen was giving me the stalker eyes. I think she put her knickers in my locker this morning." He made a face and stuck an arm over the side of the couch, digging around in his school bag for a packet of sandwiches and a block of chocolate. “Found Gwaine having a smoke, asked him where you’d been hiding. And I brought lunch." He held it out, beaming expectantly.

Merlin’s mum had, of course, noticed the strop he was in and had packed an even nicer lunch, figuring rightly that it would be beyond his depth to feed himself the next day. There was even chocolate custard, which Merlin most definitely wasn’t going to let Arthur know about. Not that Arthur should even be there.

“But, why are you here?” he heard himself asking again. He wasn't awake enough to deal with things like Arthur touching him or breathing near him.

“Wow, you really _are_ out of it.” Arthur bit his lip, frowned, and suddenly a hot hand was pressed against Merlin’s forehead, and then smoothing down to his cheek, feeling the pulse of his neck with a thumb. Merlin blinked and leaned into it just a little.

“No, but... aren't you supposed to be cranky at me or something?" He’d sat up fully, but Arthur hadn’t taken his hand off Merlin's neck.

“Why on earth would I be cranky? It's a fucking nice day!” Arthur flashed him a smile.

“Because yesterday I was, like, a complete twat?”

A large part of Merlin's emo ruminations the night before had involved their conversation from lunchtime. He had gone over it and over it as he slumped against the side of his bed, reliving the same stupid spiral of words, and getting more annoyed at himself each time. Though mortifying, coming out to his mum had gone down pretty well, all things considered. Yeah, she hadn't really picked up on the fact that not straight didn’t automatically mean gay, but she hadn't cut him off or thrown it all back in his face or laughed at him. He was supposed to be Arthur's _best friend_. He probably couldn't have reacted worse if he'd tried.

The thousands of possible alternate paths had spun out in his head all night; if he’d been the supportive friend who dropped the selfish bullshit and let Arthur have his moment of vulnerability, and none of them were the universes in which Merlin currently lived and breathed. He’d figured he could survive the rest of the school year by changing seats and study partners and quietly hiding behind books the rest of the time. He’d figured maybe Gwaine might still be his friend, as long as Merlin got him a date with Willow. He’d figured that life without visits to the Pendragon manor of ridiculous hugeness would be fine because there were still public parks and things and that was quite enough open space for Merlin. He’d figured that the cloying sickly feeling he’d had over Easter break would eventually subside and Arthur would be a charming footnote in his life, maybe by the time he was sixty or so, living with a dozen cats and posting photos of his action figures with hand-painted backdrops on the internet.

But in the morning Arthur had hip-checked him on the curb out front and grabbed for the project, rambling all the while about something imbecilic and rugby-related. Merlin had wondered if maybe, _maybe_ his future life would not be so dire and cat-filled as he’d convinced himself in the night. Going by past experience, at best it would be at least a week for Arthur to forgive him, or at least do Arthur’s equivalent of forgiveness, which was more like deliberate forgetfulness. Either way it was much less suffering than Merlin figured he deserved.

"Nah, you've always been a bit of a twat, Merlin, so I expect it from you," Arthur said, sounding irritatingly fond. "And I did sort of spring it on you."

"That's not the point."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Who cares what the point is? I'm not angry at you, so stop being such an emo and take the fucking chocolate.” He tossed the foil-wrapped block onto Merlin's lap.

"Well I'm still mad at you," Merlin said sulkily, carefully peeling back a corner of the foil, "so don't think you can ply me with sandwiches." He bit off three squares and pushed the block towards Arthur. "But that doesn't mean I don't... you know, support you and stuff."

"Support, hey?" Arthur leaned in, waggling his eyebrows. "Will that involve a short skirt and pompoms?"

Merlin made a disgusted noise. "Shut up, I'm trying to be serious here. This shit is hard to deal with sometimes, and like... I'm here for you and whatever."

"Same here, you know," Arthur said solemnly, sliding in closer and putting his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers dangling an inch from Merlin's shoulder. Their knees were almost touching. "If things get _hard_ for you and you need some support, I'm always happy to help."

Merlin jumped as he felt Arthur's fingers brush the back of his neck. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

Arthur reeled his arm back in. “Er, accepting your... support?”

“That is not what I meant! I meant, like, as a friend!”

“But you’re... we’re... I’m gay now, and you’ve had a night to sleep on it, so I figured...”

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut.

“Or maybe not?” Arthur hooked his pinkie finger over Merlin's and tugged it gently.

“You can’t just... This isn’t the sort of thing you fix with food and sex, Arthur. Has it ever occurred to you that _might_ have been our problem in the first place?”

“But, I mean, you were pretty into it before...”

"Yeah, I was, and look what happened." He slid his hand out from under Arthur's and stuck it under his legs, out of reach.

Somewhere in the distance, the lunch bell rang. Arthur stood up, nodding reluctantly. He scuffed his shoes on the carpet. "You coming to the dining hall? I need caffeine."

Merlin thought longingly of the thermos of tea in his bag, and the nice biscuits and the little canister of cream his mother had handed to him that morning, but they could be sacrificed, he supposed. He stood up. "Yeah, alright. I do love piss-weak Tetley's in a Styrofoam cup."

They began weaving their way between the bookcases, shoving at each other with shoulders and elbows. Once out in the relative open air of the hallway, Arthur stopped abruptly, reaching out to yank at Merlin’s rucksack before he blended in with the crowd of students. “You’re still coming round, yeah?”

Merlin didn’t respond immediately. He contemplated lying, possibly about his Uncle coming for a surprise visit, or perhaps needing to wash his hair, or maybe rereading all thirteen Wheel of Time books, but after taking in the way Arthur was chewing his own lip, all that came out was, “Wouldn’t want Soph to think you were a liar as well as an inconsiderate arse, right?”

“Oi, my arse is very considerate, thank you.” He cocked his hip, and Merlin managed not to stare by sheer force of will. “Anyway, what she thinks is out of my hands, mate. Come on, then. We’ll have to stop by the shop for the right sort of cheeses after class; all Morgana left behind was some truly rank soy cheese. Hey! I wonder what it’d look like if it was set on fire?”

Merlin groaned, hoping that they’d replaced the fire extinguishers from last time, and followed Arthur, and his considerate arse, down the hall.

FIN.


End file.
